


Blooming Up From The Ground

by gilligankane



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the curse breaks, Abigail confronts Regina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blooming Up From The Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missanomalous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanomalous/gifts).



> Taking some liberties here. 
> 
> Title comes from the Blind Pilot song '3 Rounds and a Sound'

“Regina, wait,” Abigail calls out, nearly tripping over an exposed root.

Regina, her braids wild and loose, looks back over her shoulder and grins. “Come on,” she calls back. “Catch up, Abigail.”

Abigail is trying, but her legs just aren’t as long yet. Eight summers and she’s still as small as ever. Regina has grown since last fall. Her dark head of hair nearly touches the bridle of Mr. Mills’ horse and she stands tall all the time now, a good half-foot higher than Abigail. Regina isn’t mean about it, though. Not like the rest of the girls that visit the castle. It’s why Abigail likes Regina the best, even if they don’t see each other too often. Regina says it’s because her mother doesn’t like them traveling too far from home and Abigail can see that in Regina’s house, they follow her mother’s rules.

“Regina, stop,” she cries out once more, her voice high in desperation. Regina stops immediately and turns back, her hands reaching for Abigail’s shoulders.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, tipping Abigail’s head back. Regina sighs when she sees that Abigail isn’t hurt, but tired. “Oh, Abigail. We should have ridden out this far. It was unfair to make you try and run.”

Abigail pulls herself up as tall as she can. “I can keep up.” She deflates slightly. “We’ve just been running for a long time.”

Regina nods judiciously. “Of course we have. You should have told me earlier and we could have taken breaks.” She makes a show of putting her hand to her chest. “I am so tired from running.”

“You are?” Abigail asks, her head tipped to one side.

Regina nods again. “Just because I’m twelve summers this year doesn’t mean I don’t get tired too.”

Abigail smiles slowly. “Oh,” she breathes out. “I just thought…”

Regina pats her gently on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Abigail.”

Abigail thinks of all the other girls that visit the castle, the cousins and the ones that work in the kitchen. She thinks of how they never say ‘it’s okay’ about anything, how they always find something wrong. She’s not tall enough yet. She’s not pretty enough yet. Behind her back, they say she may never look like her mother and how upset her father is about it. She constantly keeps her head down and won’t look people in the eye, for fear they’ll actually see her.

Regina, though, ducks her head down to catch Abigail’s eye. And when Abigail showed Regina the picture of her mother, the one in the room filled with books that her father never goes into anymore, Regina said she looked just like the painting. And Regina won’t admit it, but Abigail knows she was the one who threw apples at the cook’s daughter when the girl called Abigail ugly.

“You’re my friend, right?” she asks, feeling foolish. She can’t help the question, though, or the burning desire to know the answer.

Abigail breathes a sigh of relief at the easy smile that blooms on Regina’s face. “Of course I am, silly girl. You’re my best friend.”

Abigail nods sharply, a burst of warmth spreading in her chest like wildfire. It gives her a second wind and she flies, pulling out of Regina’s grasp and taking off towards the lilac clearing. King Leopold and his new bride, her stomach swollen with life, is supposed to be arriving any day now and Abigail hopes Regina is still around to greet them. If not, Abigail will present the lilac flowers they pick, from both of them.

Her best friend follows and they burst into the clearing together.

*

At Regina’s wedding, Abigail doesn’t stay long.

They haven’t spoken in years, but Abigail still cries when Regina steps up the altar. She doesn’t see much of the girl she knew in Regina now. There’s more Cora in her expression now and it shakes Abigail inside.

Still, she catches Regina’s eye across the ballroom and there is a moment where they don’t have to say anything. Regina’s eyes soften and Abigail smiles softly. Cora sweeps in between them and the moment is gone, but Abigail caught just enough of a glimpse of the girl she loved as a child, the girl she can’t stop thinking of.

Before she leaves, she places a sprig of lilac on the table with the rest of Regina’s presents.

*

The curse breaking leaves her standing in a kitchen she doesn’t remember decorating. She sucks in a breath shakily, steadying herself against the kitchen counter as her eyes roam over the lilac pictures adoring the wall. A rush of memories comes flooding back, sweeping over her as easily and destructively as the purple smoke.

Kathryn Nolan.

Abigail Spencer.

She has to sit down, to catch her breath. She had been informed that a curse would come, that it would sweep up everyone in its path and do unspeakable things. She looks down at her shaking hands and sees the wedding ring Kathryn Nolan hadn’t been able to take off, but there is also a scar Kathryn could never explain. She knows now: _Abigail and a burr tree. She cried all night after her father dug it out with no care of her skin_.

And then she stands up.

A curse. It took her out of a castle and left her in Storybrooke, Maine.

It took away her father’s cold, empty eyes and gave her a husband, the one her father wanted for her, if only briefly. _Regina_ took her from the halls of her father’s castle, from Frederick’s arms, and put her in a modest, 7-room house, with James and a cat.

_Regina_ did that.

Abigail storms out of her house without bothering to shut the door behind her. When she sees the group huddled at the end of Main Street, she turns away, towards Regina’s, her head spinning.

The door to Regina’s house gives easily and Abigail storms inside, her confusion fading into a sense of betrayal she can’t explain.

“Regina, where are you?” she calls out.

There’s a faint twinkling of glass against ice coming from the sitting room and Abigail follows it. Regina is sitting in a high-backed chair, a glass in her hand. She swirls the cider-looking drink around the glass, the ice cubes clinking gently.

“Regina,” Abigail breathes out.

Regina looks up, her eyes focusing on Abigail belatedly. “Oh, hello,” she says faintly. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I didn’t knock.” Abigail takes a seat on the couch, the fight suddenly gone. She looks at Regina steadily, looking for traces of someone she used to know. Where is the Regina that showed her how to tie lilacs together? Where is the girl who threw apples at the cook’s daughter? Where is the girl who would climb into bed with her and tell her stories by the light of the candles? Regina looks tired, a pale reflection of the spirit she had in the Enchanted Forest.

“The curse broke,” Regina says wearily. She takes a long sip of what she’s drinking. “You know that, don’t you, Abigail?”

It’s strange to hear her name, her _real_ name, out loud after so long.

Regina continues. “For twenty-eight years, everything was perfect. Everything was exactly what I wanted it to be. And then _she_ came to Storybrooke and…” Regina trails off. “People were happy. People were content.”

“They were content because they didn’t know what you had taken from them,” Abigail interrupts, a bit of her earlier anger rising up inside her again.

Regina’s eyes narrow slightly. “Was it all so bad, though? Weren’t you happy?”

“I was married to _James_ ,” Abigail says, the name heavy on her tongue. “Who was in a coma for almost all of those twenty-eight years.”

The corners of Regina’s mouth twitch upward. “You always did say he was much better at looking pretty, rather than talking.”

“I was eighteen when I said that, Regina.”

Regina shrugs. “You said many things when you were eighteen, dear. I didn’t forget, though. I didn’t forget any of it. Everyone else did, but I remembered everything. It made putting Charming under that sleeping curse that much easier.”

Abigail shifts restlessly on the couch, twisting Kathryn’s wedding ring around her finger. “You took me away from Frederick.”

Regina’s laugh is sharp and unexpected. “He was never worth your time. If I had been there after Charming went off in search of Snow,” she sneers, “I would have advised you differently.”

“You can’t advise matters of the heart,” Abigail says bitingly.

“Oh, but can’t you?” Regina lifts an eyebrow in question. “I seem to remember you-“

Abigail stands angrily. “I was eighteen,” she hisses.

“Yes,” Regina agrees softly. “But like I said, I didn’t forget.”

Abigail sags back against the couch. “You should have never married King Leopold.”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice,” Regina says lightly. She stands and begins to pour herself another drink. “Cora took Daniel from me. She had your father’s kingdom banished from our maps. She took you from my court and gave you Frederick, a puzzle to figure out.” Abigail watches Regina’s back tense. “What choice did I have?”

Abigail is quiet, unsure of what to say. Regina didn’t have a choice, not really. But she wishes she could have done more. She wishes her father had been stronger and fought against Cora. She wishes _she_ had been stronger, to fight against the appeal of Frederick, encased in gold.

“Why did you cast the curse?” Abigail asks, pulling Kathryn’s ring off her finger. She places it on coffee table gently.

“Simple, dear,” Regina says, turning. She has a smile on her face that Abigail recognizes: _their last night together, before Cora banished her. Regina gave her that same, sad smile when Abigail asked her to stay._ “I wanted my Happy Ending.”

Abigail swallows dryly. “And did you get it?”

Regina’s tips her head to the side sadly, trailing a finger along Abigail’s jawline. “I thought I had.”

Abigail stands again and tucks her hands into her pocket. “Kathryn got into law school.”

“I remember that too, dear.”

“I think I might go.”

Regina’s face remains impassive. “You should know that if you cross the town line, you wouldn’t remember who you are. You won’t remember Abigail. You will only know yourself as Kathryn Nolan, a recent divorcee.”

Abigail gives Regina a small smile. “It wasn’t so bad, though. I was content.”

Regina looks like she might try and laugh a little but the noise dies in her throat. “I wanted _you_ to be happy, at least.”

“I haven’t been happy in a long time, Regina. And I don’t think that is something you could have changed for me.” She places her hand on Regina’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “But thank you for trying.” She turns to go, Kathryn’s ring glistening on the table.

“We were friend’s, weren’t we?” Regina asks, her voice so much smaller than Kathryn or Abigail remembers. “In this life, we were friends?”

Abigail smiles widely, the feeling on her face both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. “Of course we were, silly girl. You’re my best friend.”

Regina nods, her eyes bright. “You were mine too.”

*

Abigail pauses at the town line and idles there for a moment. As soon as she gets past it, she’ll forget Abigail Spencer. She’ll forget her search to free Frederick. She’ll forget her father’s disappointment. She’ll forget the summers Regina Mills came to the castle and brought happiness with her, wrapping Abigail up in it like it was a cloak she could wear.

A glance in her rearview mirror shows her the woods and the road leading back to town.

She glances ahead at the open road leading out of town, a green highway sign in the distance, telling her just how far it is to Boston.

She shifts the car into drive and hits the gas.

The lilac bush blooming under the ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’ sign is the last thing Abigail remembers seeing. 


End file.
